Paradise Lost
by The Cabbage Patch Kid
Summary: Lots of Captain Jack Sparrow and a girl. Well what can I tell you? I went fishing – and I caught a really big fish. The sun was sparkling on the gentle waves of the lagoon, like it only does in the Caribbean ...
1. Chapter 1

**You shall have a fishy**

Well what can I tell you? I went fishing – and I caught a really big fish.

The sun was sparkling on the gentle waves of the lagoon, like it only does in the Caribbean, golden, soft, clear and kind. The fish darted beneath the skull, too bountiful, too beautiful to catch? I lazed, one hand in the water, listening to the flip and flop of the waves, lulled by the rocking of the boat, the cool water streaming slowly through my fingers, tangible, intangible. Maybe I would take a little dip instead. I eased myself down into the cool water, not wanting to make a sound to disturb the peace of my little lagoon. Water all round me, caressing my skin, holding me. I suspected I might be lonely.

I paddled about for a bit, dipping under, swimming round the sculpted marvel of the reef, the fish watching my slow motion clumsiness with amusement. Maybe I would eat one of them. Who looked the most amused? I played at trying to catch them with my hands. Always too slow. They didn't even bother to be scared, darted a foot or two away then continued with their business. I laughed with them. The water rushed in cool streams down my head and neck as I surfaced nose full and spluttering. What a glorious place to be alone. My home. I floundered back into my boat and lay on the hard smooth planks luxuriating in the sun on my skin and slept.

Something woke me. A shadow loomed across the fading sky.

"Having much luck luv?"

"Sorry?" Sleepy, head fog. Should I panic? Can't be bothered, try and sit up and open eyes. "Um hello?"

"Did you catch anything?" He sounded friendly enough.

"Um, no. They were too pretty. I do this every day, but they're always too pretty." I push myself up so I can peer over the side of the boat at my companion. Dreadlocks haloed in the sunset – dark shadows obscuring his face – Spanish probably, except he sounded English. He thrust a hand at me, whether to shake or help me up I wasn't sure, but I held on and went for the latter. His hands were rapped in salt hardened strips of cloth, his wrists in beads and leather. "Captain Jack Sparrow maam, at your service." I glanced at his dinghy. If that made him a captain? "Miss Catherine Butterworth, Duchess of Green Mark – welcome to my estate." I smiled and manoeuvred myself back onto the seat, lifted the little anchor and arranged my oars. "Care for a little race?"

"Where to?"

"That little hut, I mean my glorious country pile". I gestured at my cottage, snuggled in the thick woods by the beach.

I set off. It was fun at first, the exhilaration of physical exertion, his dinghy was larger, heavier and not really designed for rowing – but then he was winning, why do they always win? (Because they're bigger, stronger and faster – but they could let me win!) So I slowed and pulled an easy rhythm to the beach, hopped out with practised grace (I hoped) and dragged the scull past the highest tide mark. He was already sitting on the doorstep grinning, the dinghy anchored in the shallows. His smile was warm but his teeth seemed black yet shined ghoulishly with the last red of the sun. The sand was soft under my feet as I walked towards him; the evening breeze whipped my hair across my face and shivers of sand across my legs. I grinned back.

"Well this is a warmer welcome than I was hoping for."

"But no warmer than you deserve I hope."

"Aye, quite. But some take objection to my appearance like."

"And what's not to like?" (My I'm confident today – I suspect that I'm not quite awake yet).

"Well I don't think it's the look of it so much as what it stands for."

"Pirate?"

"Aye, Pirate."

"Well that didn't stop good Queen Bess shagging Sir Walter Riley now did it?"

"Really? I though he was gay? And that was a while ago now when pirating was in fashion."

"From the look of you it's still in fashion. And it always helps to do your pirating under the queen's colours."

"So you want to shag me then? The welcome here…"

"That wasn't what I was saying. Just that I think that most people are hypocritical bastards to hang a man when he's a pirate when they ship living souls cramped under deck without enough of life's necessity air to go around never mind water, killing more than half of them, just cos he steals their ill-gotten gains. Sorry, I'm showing what my father calls my puritanical harridan streak."

"I see only gracious clear minded charm." He nodded his head at me and extended his hand in a mock bow.

I paused and sat down on the warm soft sand in front of him with a thump, feeling it's substance against me. Definitely lonely. But before we rush into things that we might regret (who knows how much? The evil in this world is staggering) I thought I'd best ask him straight out "so are you the raping and murdering type of pirate or just the nicking things and not paying duty type of pirate?"

"If I was the raping and murdering type of pirate, would I not also be the lying type of pirate?"

"Just answer the fucking question. Excuse my olde English." I wasn't serious, but it was obvious that this was a man to take no shit from from the start.

"And are all murderous pirates the raping kind?"

"I can have a nap if you like while you work out the answer."

"Well, luv, though your charm seems to be waning..."

"While you're words are waxing off the point…"

"I've never raped anyone, girl, man nor goat and if by murder you mean kill a man outside the law then I guess I have, but not beyond the law I hold for myself."

"Which is?"

"Only kill if it's absolutely necessary."

"As when…"

"They're about to kill you, or some other such."

"What about if they deserve it?"

"I wouldn't presume to decide. Except once. Ok, when absolutely necessary and if they really deserve it."

"And what had this man done, the man who deserved it?"

"I'm not sure that you should ask such things."

"Are you afraid that I'll tell someone? I could tell the parrots, or the fish, but it wouldn't leave this island Jack. Unless I ever leave this island."

"So we are alone here then?"

"Completely alone."

"I can see why you were so pleased to see me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sing for your supper**

I looked at him. He was easily the best looking, nay the most beautiful man I had ever seen, if more than a little grubby. Golden skin, high bones, light strong build, soft, dark, beautiful eyes. If I couldn't pull with the competition tonight? I'd just sit alone on my island.

"Where are you from? You sound English, if a little affected, but you look like no man I've ever seen."

"Just a little place. You won't have heard of it."

"Are all the people there as beautiful as you?" At that I got a quick new smile, not the broad practiced grin, but an intrigued touched and open smile.

"And where are you from my lady? From your accent I would say that you were a governess, but you use words like no woman I've met before. Tell me; are all the women there as forthright and daring in their words as you?"

"Oh a little place, you may have heard of it, London."

"I might guess that you didn't fit in there."

"You would guess right. Now – I'm starving – do you want some dinner?"

"And Milton said that paradise was lost."

I opened the creaking sun bleached door of my little house and guided him into one of the two leather chairs before going round and lighting the lamps with a taper lit from the stove fire. The shutters were open and the breeze through the screens lifted the long light curtains, swaying like the waves falling on the beach.

"A drink?"

"Please."

I got the water jug from the cool of the parlour and set it on the table with four of the best glasses, well how often did I have guests? I poured him and myself a glass of water. He was looking round the room, at the bookcase, the writing table, the bed. There wasn't much else to look at. "And what are these two glasses for?" he said with undisguised hope.

"Those are for the rum. I find wine doesn't keep long in this house for some reason."

"Too warm?"

"Too empty. Goat stew?"

"If that's what is cooking."

"That's always what is cooking."

I got the rice simmering and went into the "garden" to pull out some salad and herbs. I couldn't get much else to grow here, the soil was too sandy. My brother said I should have built my house higher up on the rich volcanic earth, out of the reach of the storm tides. I said I would rather have my bedroom look out on the beach. He was right, of course, it would have been more practical, but when you have no hope, who needs to be practical?

I walked down to the waters edge to wash the salad, as I did every evening. The night time noises, hoots, clicking and the thwack of one young tree catapulted into another by an overweight monkey comforting me as once they had scared me. I stopped for a moment to breathe the air – I would not think, I would not worry, as taught by my isolation, I would just be. I turned and walked back up to the house, and placed the washed salad in the large wooden bowl. Tonight I would have olive oil. Tonight I would use pepper. Tonight I would not worry about tomorrow at all.

I went back to sit with Captain Sparrow while the rice was cooking. "Well Captain, as I can see you've bought nothing with you, you will have to sing for your supper."

"You probably don't want to hear me sing. It's an acquired taste."

"I was angling for a story really. Or some news of the world. We're a little short of entertainment in these parts."

"Well what would you prefer, news or a story?"

"A story please."

"And what sort of story would you like?"

"Well the daring escapades of Captain Jack Sparrow of course! Unless you are too modest to tell them."

"I have been called many things in my time darling, but modest isn't one of them. Now if you'll just find me a nip of that rum I will have me a think."

I went out into the garden again and cut down twelve ripe limes, collected a bowl of dark sugar, a knife, a long spoon, the large pestle and mortar and a bottle of the rum, the best rum reserved for my brother's visits from the parlour and placed it on the table.

"What are the limes for?"

I cut three of the limes on the faded table, crushed them along with some sugar and scooped the pulp into the glasses, topping them up with rum and then mixing it all together. He took a sip.

"This is very civilized. I usually have to drink it from the bottle."

"Do you like it?"

"Delicious. Well which ones have you heard before?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Which stories?"

"You can safely assume that I haven't heard any of them, or anything for that matter."

"How long have you been on this island?"

"Oh, around four years. But I led a very respectable life before that and didn't hear much of pirates."

"Four years? Well, more's the pity and more's the mystery how you learned to talk like that. But that can wait 'til later I imagine. Well then, you might be curious to learn how I came floating into your lagoon in no more than a little dinghy boat, forty miles from the nearest land."

"I am more than a little curious, yes."

"Then that's where I shall start."

"You may be shocked to learn this, but you are not the only lady of manners and good breeding that welcomes my company."

"That would explain your excellent manners."

"You are too kind" he demurred, tilting his head on one side "but I am telling the story, if you would be so kind as to listen."

"Deepest apologies, pray continue."

"Thank you, I will. Yes, well...'though this tale is not a tale of heroism and excitement as much as one of, mystery you might say."

I nodded my head.

"Hchm. You are not the only lady who has welcomed me into their home, and for the same reason, if I may be so bold: loneliness."

"How very perceptive of you."

"As I said. Though some of the other ladies require me to take a bath in the servants tub before inviting me into the sitting room, still... Now, there is a genteel if strong minded lady who lives on the island of Abaco, famous for her emeralds."

"Mrs Winkworth!"

"The very same. You told me I could assume that you knew nothing."

"I know of nothing other than genteel ladies and their prize jewels."

"And you shall know more of that. Now Mrs Winkworth married very young, as is often the way, and by the time she was twenty-two had four fine sons and a daughter. Her husband was much older than her and sadly left her alone with her children fifteen years ago. Since that time her sons have all gone on to careers and her daughter has made a good marriage and so there is very little for the lady herself to do, other than drink tea with her neighbours. She has no interest in marrying again. She tells me it's not the 'to have and to hold' part that bothers her, but the 'honour and obey' that would stick in her throat."

"She has my sympathies."

"Still, she is far from an old woman, in her young forties still, and handsome, and there's many of the old codgers on the island who's fingers itch for her and her money. To keep herself sane and out of mischief she invites me over, every few months or so when her sons are off-shore, for some grand living. My boys drop me off in a little secluded cove not far from her plantation, then she sends me on my way with a few baubles from her dowry on the next ship to Tortuga when we have tired of one another, so to speak."

"You're a prostitute!"

"I prefer pirate, as that encompasses a man who'll do pretty much anything if the return's good so long as it's not legal. And it's always a pleasure."

"And what do your crew think of it?"

"All that they know is that I am having an affair with a great and beautiful lady, who tragically I can't stay with due to my great need to be free to follow the wind and her delicate nature requiring her to live in a great big house surrounded by luxury, as it were, but who would pine away and die for love if we were apart for too long. It's natural enough for them to understand that she gives me a little gift each time I see her, to keep me thinking of her 'til our next meeting as such a lady would no doubt want to do and me to be rascal enough to sell it, and it's not so far from the truth. Presentation, my lady, is everything.

As I was saying - her ladies' maid and gardener help her in this charade. I rock up at the gardener's cottage, he fetches the ladies maid and together they smuggle me into the house quiet like so as not to cause a scandal or worse to her ladyship. We've got quite practiced over the years like, and I've never been spotted by anyone outside the household. Still, you can't keep secrets from the servants in a house like that and the butler is the kind of officious little man with a pole up his … who could line up every inhabitant of the four islands in order of their rank, and most of the dead if you asked him, you know the type. He knows that I come to see t' her ladyship, as it were, and he knows that even here in the Caribbean where the sun and the rum loosen the tightest of …., this is not proper behaviour. He's the eldest son's favourite. That boy was the only thing that ever warmed his cold shrivelled heart, and can't wait for the day when she's gone, he's in, and he's takes his rightful place, as he sees it, as king of the estate's servants. I've been warning her ladyship about him for a good while, but, well she's a gallant girl and wouldn't put him out, loyal as he is in his own way, for her pleasure, and I think she likes a bit of a risk.

So three nights ago I woke up in a bed still as a rock, wrapped in crisp cotton sheets, with sleeping beauty next to me and a cold wet nose on the back of my neck. I'd never seen the cat before and so far as I know it was not m'lady's. Black all over it was, with bright green eyes with a strange look in them, more woman that cat I might have said, though you may accuse me of being too old to be so fanciful. Many men who live at the call of the sea are superstitious and from what I've seen, are right to be. I've seen things missy that would freeze the blood in your veins and glaze your eyeballs white over with fear and leave you blind. There are things that go bump in the night. I've touched them, I've tasted some of them and after you've seen pirates of nothing but bone and sinew and the great kraken spit a four-hundred man ship forty feet up in the air, well you take your time about deciding things.

Still, to start with I had no interest in our cat's mewlings, being more than half way in the land of sleep and comfortable with it. But she wasn't giving up and for a bit of peace more than anything, I made my way out of bed, she indicated that I'd need to be clothed for where we were going, and followed her onto the balcony.

Now the lady's bedroom door had three locks and a stout bar, as again we'd learnt to be useful from experience and no sooner was I on the balcony that I could hear from the commotion outside the door that the cat had done me a favour, not wanting to have to wear a corset (those hats hide a multitude of sins)"

"Which is why they are such a hit in London."

"Or make my passage in a tea chest again. But she was heading west and the port was to the south, so I figured that this was where we would part company though it earned me a hiss. Still, as soon as I rounded the balcony to the south, quiet as I was, I realised she was the wiser, as the sons, no doubt smart lads like their mother had posted a sentry on the balcony where he'd been keeping out of sight and though I'm half made of shadow myself, he couldn't help but see me I was but three feet away. Fortunately, coming on him suddenly and at close quarters he was fairly easy to despatch over the rail. Still he made a fair crash as he landed in the shrubbery and footsteps running on the gravel told me that I wouldn't be leaving that way.

So I made my way back past her ladyships bedroom, where she was shouting to her sons to give her a minute to get herself in order, and with a wave and a smile to her which she more than returned, she loved the drama little imp, resolved to follow the cat's plan. I can say though that it wasn't to my liking. She was sitting on the estate wall, six feet away, hissing at me to hurry, but as I said I didn't much like her choice of escape.

The house had ten foot high walls all round it, paved even on the top no doubt for neatness but giving a good surface for running on, should you manage to get up on them. To prevent scoundrels such as myself from using the walls as a route to the balcony, where they met with the house they were replaced by great iron railings with beautifully wrought vicious barbs all along the top. The nearest section of the wall was at least six, nay eight feet away, and I couldn't get a run up from the railing all round the balcony. At this point I realised that the cat was truly a cat and not a woman, as she clearly had no idea of man's limitations. But then it seemed to me that she said with her eyes, clear as a bell in my head, 'Are you or are you not Captain Jack Sparrow? You're more than half cat yourself' and I could hear from the clear angry voices behind me that the door had been opened. So I balanced myself on the balustrade and leapt without thinking, landing with my hands round the sides of the top of the wall, rolling onto my feet, even now I have no idea how I did it, a leap of faith, but then as I said, though it pays to be hard headed we must not be too closed minded about what is possible, and then pursued the streak of dancing darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**My little laddy**

She led me not to the bay where I had landed, nor down to the port, but through thick cover, stopping and turning round to lead me her eyes glowing in the darkness like fire-flies, down to the family quay and straight onto the dinghy that is anchored in your lagoon. And a good choice she made. If I had to guess, I would say that it was the second boy's dinghy, he's a merchant sailor and in love with the sea, so his mother says.

What's that smell?"

"Oh it's the rice, it must have boiled dry I was so caught up in your story. Excuse me." I poured a little water into the bottom of the dried-up pan which popped and fizzled for a second. It had just about been saved.

"It may taste a little, but it should be alright. Would you like to eat now or continue your story?"

"If you don't mind maam I will eat while I'm talking, though not talk while I'm eating; I have been living on sea biscuits the past five days and am hungry enough to eat Moses' donkey."

I served up and made us some more drinks.

"Would you like some mango preserve – I think it's missing something, but it goes fairly well with the goat." He tried it.

"I had something similar in India, it's good but you're right that it's missing something. I should think I could get it for you and a recipe too if you'd like."

"Is there no end to your resources?"

He squinted at me. "I have no island lady, but I can get myself most of what I need or want."

"Well that must be empowering."

"Just how do you survive here? But that can wait until later." He ate quickly though daintily for a few minutes – 'yes you are more than half cat' – I thought to myself, he belched 'and the rest walrus'.

"This goat is good."

"I am well practiced."

"And you put your practice to good use, which is to your credit.

Aye, as I was saying. If I had to guess, I would say that this here dinghy was the second son's boat which he kept for his pleasure. It's for one man to sail and quick for its size so it suited my purposes admirably. There was no sign of the cat though I searched the little cabin to the boards and rafters, so I guessed that she had jumped off as I was making ready and I was now free to do as I pleased. But then, just as I got out of the bay and into the open sea I spied two little green lights in the water ahead of me and to one side and so I asked the eyes 'Are you the cat?' and she answered in my head, clear as a bell again 'Yes, I am cat.'. So I asked her 'Should I follow you?' and she answered 'That is for you to decide Captain.'

Now as any man who knows me will tell you" (he leaned forward to confide) "I am not good at taking orders. If the cat had told me to follow it, then who knows what I would have done, but pique my curiosity and I cannot resist, and my curiosity was piqued. A swimming, head-talking cat is not something you come across every day. And so I followed the flashes of the little green lights farther and farther out into the great ocean. As the dawn's rays had turned the sea blue from deepest black and after the early mists had cleared, I could see that the cat was no longer a cat, but an otter-like creature with long green fur and enormous green cats' eyes."

"A silkie!"

"Aye, so I thought, and tales of silkies are hard to fathom. Some men, it is said, they lead to great treasure or a lost love, and some to a watery grave. But I have heard that they are merely messengers, doing the bidding of their sender, so I asked her, 'Where are you leading me Silkie Cat, to great treasure or to my doom?' I always used her name…"

"That was her name?" My stomach tightened and I felt a run up my spine as he said this. I felt I paled but he didn't seem to notice.

"Aye, as I saw it, as she was so good about calling me Captain, but she didn't answer. Around noon on that first day of sailing when the sun was beating hot upon the waters, I saw that we were approaching some largish flotsam, a raft of seaweed maybe, or maybe not. The sea was fairly calm and the air was clear, though the breeze kept us travelling at a rate of knots, so I could see me a good few miles all around. She was leading me towards it. 'Why are you leading me this way, Silkie Cat?" I asked her and her answer put a chill in my bones 'For your soul Captain, for it hangs in the balance and for precious peace: you will need it for where we are going', and I asked her where we were going, but she didn't answer.

Now as we approached the flotsam I could see that it was wreckage from some great vessel, barrels and planks and boxes and hatches and the like, and sprawled on one of the largish pieces was a lad, about sixteen I'd guess and just about ready to die from sunburn and thirst. Well I hauled him aboard and laid him as comfortable as I could make him in what shade I had, and gave him what was left of the water. Now I don't know why I did that as it put me at risk myself from thirst and I doubt that I ever shall, except that if I hadn't given it to him then he would have died and there would have been no point in fishing him out in the first place. I was about to turn back the way we'd came, to make landfall before either of us died of thirst, though I didn't have much hope for him, poor blighter, but her voice in my head said, 'there is no wind that way Captain' and she could have been right, it was clear and calm enough and for no good reason other than that I'd started on this course, I followed her little green body farther out into the deep sea.

About three hours later he got up the strength to talk. Seems he was a boy seaman from a merchant vessel, had set out from Liverpool two years before. He'd sailed first to the East Indies and then had swapped passage on the doomed Virgin Queen, as his twin brother was known to sail in these parts. He had a St Christopher round his neck which had been cleaved in twain…"

On hearing this I felt my heart stop and shook my head, but comforted myself that it must be a coincidence, or?

"…with the other half held by his younger (of two hours) brother. I told him to save his breath and we kept quiet passage from then on. All night we sailed, I didn't sleep, where-ever we were going we needed to get there quick as could be.

Please R&R! Thanks very much...


	4. Chapter 4

**When the boat comes in**

I sailed all that night thinking what we were going to do for water. By morning I was concerned; we were at least two days from land and heading out ever further and a man can't do much on no water for two days. I know there's men has sucked the blood from fresh caught fish when castaway, but I didn't fancy that.

As I was sitting there watching and pondering, looking at the sun rise on the sea and the great white sail, I noticed that the sail had been sewn top to bottom with little strings of cotton, and that these strings seemed to guide the morning's dew into droplets and the droplets down the sail to another string along the foot, and at the end of that string was a leather flask. I didn't touch it til the sun was well up and the sails dry, not wanting to waste a drop, but she was a good big sail and we had enough dew in the flask for one day for one man. Not enough, but there'd be more tomorrow. Clever man, that Mr Winkworth. I'll think twice before I go back there. Think I got away easy. I took a little water myself and gave what I could to the boy. He ate a little of a biscuit and fell back to sleep, and I was satisfied.

Not two hours later, by my reckoning, a ship appeared on the horizon and we were headed towards it. Maybe quarter of an hour more and I could see that it was my ship, my very own, my Anna-Maria…." His voice dropped deep and his eyes were far away. Of all the seaman I knew, all of whom are in love with the sea to a greater or lesser extent, this man was the most enraptured, this man would never stop sailing and would die at the mercy of his one great love.

"Why did you call her the Anna-Maria?" I was jealous. How was I jealous?

"Well once-upon-a-time I promised a girl named Anna-Maria that I would get her a ship, a really big one. As it turned out I wasn't able to keep that promise, so when I got my new ship made I named it after her. Seemed the thing to do."

"Maybe you'll still have time to get her a ship." Jealous and fishing for information.

"I don't think she's much interested in ships where she is now luv.

Now, of all the great open ocean, this was the only place where I could be sure of a welcome and could make the boy safe. That bothered me. Too tidy." He raised an eyebrow at me and a muscle in his cheek twitched. "I was being led a merry dance and no mistake and much as I like to see where the wind will take me I don't like being led by the nose, even by a seaweed haired underwater cat, makes me think I'm being taken for a ride like. Savvy?" (Was that a warning?)

"We got the boy up on deck and safely away, me thinking the cat was probably done with me, now I was safely delivered. Maybe it was Mrs Winkworth who had sent Silky Cat to see me home like. The boy took a little more water and I reckon he was past the worse of it, he'd live. I was pretty pleased with myself. I reckoned the boy would be as loyal a crew-hand as ever I'd had since he owed me and I'd got myself a ship-shape dinghy to-boot, which made up somewhat for the trinkets I hadn't had time to collect from Mrs Winkworth. The crew were a tad surprised to see me, there out in the open water, as I was them, but well I guess they've learned not to be surprised by much I do and, after I gave Gibbs short shrift for askin if me and my lady hadn't had a tiff, there were few questions and I laid myself down for a drink and a kip, as is a Pirate Captain's perrogative.

But then on the wheel that evening when I looked down into the black depths, I'd catch a little flash of green, baiting me, teasing me. 'Didn't I want to know where we were headed?' it seemed to ask, and it seems that I did. I ordered provisions to be taken down to the dinghy, ready for the off.

"Why didn't you follow the silkie in the Ana-Maria?"

"Good question, luv, now that you mention it. I'd not thought of that, but if I was going to go gallavanting about the ocean after a swimming cat, I'd do it by meself. My crew think I'm touched as it is." He smiled. "Keeps them on their toes like.

So, it was just me and the little cat again, and all the lonely ocean. We sailed as the crow flies, now headed west, back to the Bahamas. Again I asked her where we were going. This time she answered. 'To, Captain, someone who sent me to find you.' So I asked, I thought pretty reasonably, 'and what does he want me for Silkie Cat?', as only someone with a powerful reason to want me in their presence would go to the lengths of summoning such a creature, I'm sure that they're expensive in time, effort, and … probably chicken's feet, but I swear the damned thing giggled and she would answer me no more.

The fourth day, are we up to the fourth day now? I can't remember. But whichever day, it dawned cool and calm, such as you could hope for, the breeze was brisk and we made good time. I snoozed a fair deal, it was an easy passage, until late this afternoon when we came upon the shoals around your island here. You're pretty well protected on this side of the Island miss: I wouldn't want to come through there without a silkie to guide me or in any worse weather. A couple of times I thought that maybe she'd betrayed me and that someone's idea of a joke was to lure me out here just to be dashed to little pieces. But no, she kept me safe and we were through and out into this little piece of heaven that you call your home. I asked her 'Are we there Slimy Cat?' perhaps a little unsettled by our nerve-wracking entrace, and maybe it's because I didn't call her by her proper name or maybe it's cos we was, but in answer she flipped her tail, dived and disappeared, and I've not seen hide nor seaweed strand of her since.

And there was your boat, bobbing merry as an apple, with you lying asleep in it peaceful and helpless as a newborn. Not my idea of someone with the power to drag Captain Jack Sparrow here and there at a whim. So I ask you: who are you and why did you summon me here, savvy?" At this his eyes took on a dangerous look and I was careful to look back into his eyes and tell him the truth.

Please R&R, any feedback welcome! Thank you…


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